


director's cut

by fated_addiction



Series: semicolon [4]
Category: K-pop, Real Person Fiction, Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 07:50:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13476975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: the bathroom feels like it's thirty-two degrees colder than the rest of the dorm.or, irene struggles with a confession that is still waiting to happen.





	director's cut

-

 

 

 

the bathroom feels like it's thirty-two degrees colder than the rest of the dorm.

but this isn't about that. but irene stands in the middle of it, totally mystified. and shivering. trying to force her sweater into swallowing her. because it seems like a totally logical way to go.

"are you okay?"

she blinks. wendy stands behind her in the mirror. half-sleep, she leans against the doorframe.

"i'm freezing," irene confesses. she also feels like she's wearing two, thick inches of makeup. she checks her watch. "go back to bed," she says gently. "you need to sleep."

wendy ignores her. "how were your solo shoots?"

"cold."

there is nothing exciting about shooting a music video. it's hectic, stressful; she feels like she's stretched thin. she's worried about all the other girls too. seulgi barely strung together time for a family vacation. sure, the outcome outweighs everything else. but irene worries. irene worries and forces herself to stay grounded so that the others don't have to.

but then of course, there's wendy. "what?" irene asks in the mirror. she watches wendy smile a little. she yawns too. "go back to sleep," irene says.

"no. not until you do."

and then there's that too.

"i'm still wired though."

wendy grunts. moves into the bathroom. sits on the toilet and stares up at her. her face is scrubbed clean. her glasses are perched on her nose. she came home with yeri and joy. mostly to make sure that joy was in bed before the second round of her schedule. it's like co-parenting almost; and in a weird way, that warms irene. it makes her feel selfish and secure.

"i'm pretty sure i drank my weight in coffee." irene moves and sinks to the floor. her legs ache. she rubs her eyes. "then you left me and i felt super awkward. and then my iphone died."

"i told you that you'd forget your charger in the car," wendy says dryly.

irene shrugs.

they stare at each other. honestly, they've been dancing around each other for what feels like years. actual years. the nature of their relationship has always been pretty simple: bae joohyun doesn't not know how to exist without son seungwan. it started as a joke between the two of them when they were trainees. knocking shoulders together. holding hands, grasping each other to just stand _up_. it was always black and white and shades of gray with her and wendy. a lot of subtle, sharp feelings that neither of them acknowledge. but irene knows. they have been there forever. that's the scary part.

she holds wendy's gaze this way. she smiles a little. then scoots across the bathroom tile, closer to wendy's knees. her palms press against them and then she drags her fingers around wendy's hands, tugging them lightly.

"i want to be serious," she says. this isn't courage. her throat is tight.

wendy snorts. she's still smiling though. her hands curl back against irene's. "you're always serious," she says lightly.

"that. and maybe it's because i'm tired. actually, it's definitely because i'm tired."

"no wonder you don't drink."

irene hits her knee. "shut up."

"unnie," wendy laughs. "we should really get you to bed."

"no," she says. "because i'll just lay there. and then i'll think about the day. and then worry about the day. and then i'll think about tomorrow and worry about that too. about the million and ten things that we all have to do. about reshoots. about variety shoots. about the cfs that we've all got to prepare for. and then, i'll kick myself for not going home. or staying at home and doing something stupid like... knitting. because i still want to give knitting a go. and then i'll think about you, always you, because we've been in this place and i love being in this place, but it's not enough for me anymore. seungwan-ah. what do we do?"

wendy stares at her. her eyes are dark. she's smiling. so maybe that's a good sign. her hands untangle from underneath irene's and she draws herself back to lean against the sink. this is not a confession. it doesn't have to be. there's nothing linear to a relationship; sometimes you just know the person is _the_ person. it's inherently dangerous. you make mistakes. you do stupid things. you wonder if the person is watching you and wondering if they've made the right decision. even though, no decision has been made at all.

but wendy looks really, really soft. and really, really, _really_ pretty. pretty enough that it unnerves irene. that it makes her want to be selfish. her fingers twitch against wendy's knees.

"i don't want to mess this up." irene's mouth purses. "this," she says again, shifting to her knees.

"i know."

"but _do_ you?"

wendy nods. but pats her head. her fingers ruffling through her hair. they drag and sigh against the line of irene's jaw. her expression is unreadable but irene still swallows, watching her.

"let's get you to bed," wendy says.

 

 

 

 

 

the problem is:

irene doesn't sleep. can't. because she's pretty sure she's confessed. even though it doesn't feel like a confession. mostly, it feels like the truth. and something about that is insanely terrifying. wendy's also come to bed with her. crawled into bed under her blankets. lies on her side with her eyes close facing irene. probably to make sure she doesn't go and stress clean the kitchen. because she's done that before and the end result almost had the girls committing her.

but she still studies wendy. even reaches out, dragging her finger along the plane of her nose. it's soft. wendy doesn't stir. she breathes in and out. and her hair swirls against her pillows. just as wendy inches closer.

"do you really want to talk about this?"

irene is startled. "what?"

"you and me." wendy's eyes are barely open. her knees press against irene's as she shifts closer. "do you really want to talk about this," she repeats. "because it's opening a door that -"

"i know," irene says quickly. she feels like sitting up. but wendy's laced their fingers together. "i _know_. but i feel like..."

"it doesn't make sense to see yourself without me?" 

wendy's voice is light. irene's eyes grow large in the dark. she's not sure if wendy is being serious or is serious and she can't handle this already. because all options are pretty practical.

"yeah." irene swallows. "that."

there are knots in her stomach. she feels the bed shift and wendy moves her head to her pillow. automatically, irene drops her arm over her waist. to be comfortable, okay. but her fingers fix on a spot where wendy's t-shirt has start slide up, working into small, soft circles against her skin. wendy sighs. just sighs. and irene watches her eyes start to close.

"i don't need declarations, joohyun-ah."

it's nothing like she imagines: no sudden, sharp 'i love you too!' because that's the way she always thought things like these were supposed to go. her palms are sweaty. she feels like she's about to lose it - cry, maybe. laugh nervous, more logical. and she's supposed to be sleeping in her bed. part of it is that wendy has said her name and it's the way that she _says_ her name, soft, warm, and totally and completely possessive. if there weren't years between them already, this would be the moment where irene knew that wendy had her. completely. absolutely. and everything else in between. it still terrifies her. but it's the truth.

wendy's breathing evens. irene feels her heart hurt.

her voice cracks. "go to sleep, seungwan," she still says.

**Author's Note:**

> for a request!
> 
> irene/wendy. a not-confession confession.


End file.
